


Öga for Öga

by VeteranKlaus



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Gore, Hurt No Comfort, Season 2, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25689826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeteranKlaus/pseuds/VeteranKlaus
Summary: Diego is going to bury Elliot. It’s the least he deserves.And then the same assholes who attacked him with Lila and Five make a return.
Comments: 34
Kudos: 120





	Öga for Öga

He’s going to bury Elliot. 

The two of them didn’t exactly see eye to eye, but the guy deserved better than to get dragged into their shit and get killed for it. He was innocent and didn’t deserve to die just because he was seen hanging around them.

So, Diego is going to bury him.

He has to clean up that shitty message in Elliot’s blood first, and then he starts the delicate process of removing everything that had been stabbed into the man, trying not to let the way his skin crawls get the better of him. God, fucking _needles._ It’s always fucking needles.

He’s pulling out the last thing stabbed into through his cheek when he hears it; a creaking floorboard.

Immediately, the needle in his hand turns into a weapon and he raises it, spinning around. No one’s there, but Diego knows that this wasn’t just a trick of his mind. On high alert, he creeps forwards, slowly and quietly, aware of his own weight pressing down on the unreliable floorboards.

He gets to the entrance separating himself and Elliot to the rest of the place, his kitchen and his bedroom and the hallway outside, and he half expects the attack that comes his way; he’s quick enough to jump back, but not quick enough to get away unharmed, and he hisses at the cut he gains along his stomach. 

Prowling out to meet him is two of the three men he had fought with Lila and Five. 

“You again,” he says, shoving down any flare of anxiety. He knows they fight well, and this time there’s no one around to have his back for him. Not that there was last time, he thinks. Lila helped Five.

Unsurprisingly, neither of the men respond. Diego shifts his weight from foot to foot, looking rapidly between the two of them, and then the fight starts.

He knows how to fight multiple opponents by himself, but it’s always a pain in the ass; so much harder to get substantial attacks in on any of them. He gets a few hits on one guy before he has to turn his attention to the other, and it’s a slow process of chipping away at them whilst hoping for an opportunity to gain the upper hand and seriously hurt or kill them, whilst exhausting himself, having to go back and forth and be so on alert whilst taking hits in return.

He stabs the needle into one of the guy’s thigh, and then is stuck with just his fists and feet. He aims a kick for the other one’s head, only for his ankle to be caught, and he only just manages to catch himself before hitting the floor, rolling out of the way before he can be pinned down. 

They have to meet in the alleyway soon, he thinks. Everyone will be close, and they must hear the commotion when they arrive. However, Diego isn’t confident in his ability to prolong this fight long enough for the time to meet in the alleyway to come. It’s close, but much too far away for that.

He strives not to corner himself, and yet he still somehow finds himself with his back against the railings of the overhang, Elliot’s corpse on the chair hovering over the guys’ shoulders, taunting him, just before a fist meets his face. Another one curls in his shirt, holding it tightly, and then he is being beat until he sees stars. He can’t go forwards, and if he goes backwards then he’s just going to fall over the railings and potentially hurt himself even worse, and so until one of the Swede’s throws him forwards, he’s stuck receiving blows. 

Collapsing on the floor, he pushes through the cotton in his head to drag himself away, looking around for something to help him. Every tool that was used on Elliot is still nearby, a couple even on the floor, and he makes for those. A hand closes around his ankle and he turns around, kicking out, satisfied when his foot meets the guy’s face with a crunch. He’s dragged down a bit, further away from the tool on the floor, glinting tauntingly in the light overhead. 

He keeps making an attempt to drag himself closer to it, using his legs to try and kick at the two men, until the other one not by his ankle bends down and grabs a fistful of his hair, using it to drag him forwards.

If nothing else, it gets him closer to that tool - a scalpel - and he grabs it and doesn’t hesitate to send it flying into the guy holding his hair; sees the spray of blood as it lands into his back. 

It’s enough to buy him some time to get onto his feet, especially as the first guy pulls the weapon out of the other one, looking angry to see his partner hurt. Diego’s tongue dashes out and tastes blood on his lip; he looks around wildly. He needs to finish this fight, and soon. 

If he can get one guy over the railing, he can hope they break something or hit their head and then he can focus on the other. 

Plan in mind, Diego is ready to block and counter the blows thrown his way, inching himself closer and closer to the railing, and-

He doesn’t see the weapon coming. Not the scalpel - he had been aware of that and taking that into account - but the knife. It slams into his gut, mockingly close to where Reginald had stabbed him, and he freezes, shock and pain seizing his muscles. His knees wobble and he finds himself on the floor, looking up at his two attackers, and suddenly he thinks that perhaps he is really going to lose this fight. No one is coming to save him, and the knife is twisted and pulled out too quickly for him to take it and use it as his own weapon. 

A hand is in his hair again, pulling him along the floor, away from the railing, and then he’s being straddled by one of them; hands pinned down by the other.

The man on top of him leans close, one hand pressed over the wound in his gut, fingers digging into it painfully, stealing all the air from his lungs.

He says, _“Öga for Öga.”_ That same phrase that he had cleaned up, written in Elliot’s blood. The phrase that Five had told him what it meant.

He has a moment to let the realisation settle in before the knife is raised above his head, and finds home in his eye.

Someone is screaming. High pitched, animalistic, pained screams; horrible sounding things. It takes him too long to realise that he is making that noise. 

Because there is a knife in his eye.

The pressure on top of him is suddenly gone, and the men leave with a satisfied kick to the stab in his gut, leaving as quickly and quietly as they had come. 

Diego - Diego doesn’t know what to do.

There is a fucking knife in his eye, and-

He can’t move his eye, he can’t take the knife out, he can feel blood gushing from the wound in his stomach, and he-

He might die here.

Diego doesn’t know what to do, and even if he did, he isn’t sure he could do it. The world spins and tips around him, and he can’t stop making those horrific noises that sound too close to whimpering, but-

There is a fucking knife in his eye.

Every slight movement or touch brings excruciating pain, and when the world begins to fade like a receding wave, he can’t help but embrace it.

###

“I’ll go after Five, you go make sure Allison’s okay,” Luther says, watching Klaus moan and squirm on the floor. Begrudgingly, his brother nods, and so with that Luther sets out to follow Five and make an attempt to pull him out of his rage induced tantrum.

He can understand why, of course. He has no idea how they’re going to get to 2019 now, they all blew their best chance at that, but Five isn’t one to just give up so easily like he did, and Luther isn’t going to let him.

He follows him back into the building that has served as their base since meeting one another, calling out his name.

“Five, come on,” he says, seeing him raiding stuff from the kitchen. 

“There’s nothing we can do, Luther,” he hisses. “It’s every man for himself now because nobody came to the fucking alleyway!”

“Five,” Luther sighs, following him out of the kitchen. “We still have a chance-“

“Oh yeah, Luther? Pray tell, what is that chance? Because our last chance failed! And I don’t know or care where everyone else-“

Five comes to an abrupt stop. Luther almost rubs right into him, and he frowns. “What’s wrong?” He asks, but all he has to do is follow his gaze.

Because there, sprawled out on the floor, is Diego. A small puddle of blood surrounds him, and he isn’t moving, and there is a-

“Holy shit, Diego,” he gasps, and both he and Five hurry forwards, dropping to their knees beside him. Five’s hands immediately seek out the wound in his stomach, pressing down on it, while Luther comes face to face with-

He swallows down nausea, reaching out to hold Diego’s head, tapping his cheeks. “We need to get him to a hospital, Five,” he says, fingers trailing down his neck. There is a pulse, and he can hear the rasp to each breath he takes. It only reassured him slightly.

“Fuck,” mutters Five, hands coated red. He eyes Diego’s face, and the - the knife, the one glistening red in the light, buried deep into his eye, holding his eyelid open, displaying everything for them to see.

“Go get the first-aid kit,” he orders, and Luther doesn’t need to be told twice. 

The wound in his stomach is easy enough to deal with, a matching, angry mark next to the still-healing wound Reginald left behind.

“Five… what do we do?” Luther murmurs. Five’s jaw twitches.

“Hold him down,” he says.

“What? Five-“

“Hold him down, Luther. If he wakes up and moves…”

Swallowing down nausea, Luther nods shakily, and moves to hold him down. Five shuffles closer, and Luther looks away.

“Five, who do you think did this?” He asks, just before he can reach up to Diego’s face. Five gives him a dark look.

“ _Öga for öga_. An eye for an eye.”

**Author's Note:**

> Diego not losing his eye was a tease, let’s be real


End file.
